Sometimes things should just be different
by Elven-English-Major
Summary: SLASH A new idea of how Erik, The Phantom Of The Opera came into being.A new family, a new life, a new outcome...the way it could have been...but again, SLASH Male/Male romance will be involved.
1. Prelude to a Genius

Chapter 1- Prelude to a Genius

Chapter 1- Prelude to a Genius.

A/N : So a brief summary-this is my version of how the phantom of the opera came into existence as a person starting from his birth, however there will be an extreme alternate life story at some point in the middle of the text.

The phantom of the opera, Erik, does not in any way shape or form belong to me and is the work of Gaston Leroux, with some aspects similar to and taken from the recently published work by Etienne De Mendes "Return of the Phantom". Some of Erik's adult life and character may seem like the Arthur Kopit 1990 movie version of "Phantom of the Opera", and if this introduction seems wordy I apologize but I'd like to give credit where credit is due.

Well, I hope you enjoy the story, and if chapters come slowly my apologies because I write it all out by hand first and then type it out so it takes time to transcribe one to the other.

Enjoy!!

The Baron and Baroness of Artois were normal people, not terribly strange, both were as religious as they should have been and were as respectable as courts demanded at the time.

They loved each other no more and no less then a marriage of convenience would allow, but enough to enjoy each others company.

In the first two years of their marriage it was obvious they had married to please their parents and other relations for though it had no doubt been consummated, no children were created. However, early in the third year, the couple was blessed with a child, a beautiful baby boy who was born with pale brown hair, and strong arms and legs twenty wiggling fingers and toes, and a loud and sprightly disposition.

He grew quickly and was strong and much of a mischief maker, always getting into everything, and more then willing to do anything, despite any words his common sense murmured in his mind.

When the boy grew to his fifth year, the Baron was plagued with a rather harsh financial period, not enough to shut him out of aristocracy but enough to plague his life with little endless annoyances.

On a night of amusements, to relieve the tension of the strain, the Baron was conversing with a Soothsayer, a rather odd looking woman who hid beneath a fancy veil and long, harrowing dress that hung about her form, instead of clinging as fashion of the time dictated.

The Baron sat with his beautiful son on his lap, had the extreme misfortune of being helplessly drunk at the time and was looking lewdly at the woman with bloodshot eyes, "Read my Fortune woman" he barked.

Coming forward a little, not because she wanted to, but because she needed the money, and because the Baron would destroy her life if she didn't do everything he said. "Sir?" she asked softly curtsying in his direction.

"Tell me my fortune" he said again, this time adding a thud on the table to try and scare her into doing what he asked.

She looked at him and appropriated his tea cup. "I see…" she paused a moment and looked at him through his veil blinking rapidly.

"You will give birth to one of God's finest creations, a regular Apollo with music, a genius born practically with the God's lyre in hand." She said, catching glimpses and hearing the most astounding music the child would grow up to create.

"A musician eh? Is she beautiful with a full voice and thick hair?" he hiccupped and then fell to laughing as his wife and son leaned in to listen intently.

The soothsayer looked a little longer, turning the cup from side to side and up and down, swirling the dregs as she tried to find the depths of what she was seeing, unable to fully grasp the details. "Oh my God" she screamed, the most horrifying, blood curdling scream anyone had ever heard. She spun and threw the sign of the devil in the Baroness's direction and fainted dead on the floor.

Horrified the Baroness put up much of an offended air and retreated to her rooms in horror and mortification. The Baron threw the druidess out into the street and barred his door, releasing the part he and his wife retired from the courts, they stayed out of public life for quite some time, but soon enough all of Artois had forgotten, and the Baron had heightened his prospects returning himself to his former position of glory and so life went on.

It wasn't long after the Soothsayer's predictions that the whole of their kingdom was preparing to greet two new little Baron's or Baronesses into their midst as the Baroness herself prepared to give birth to two little babies.

She took bed late in the pregnancy with immense pain in her stomach, inexplicable but the doctor said that everything was fine. It was from her bed that the Baroness planned everything.

Each child was to be given his or her own nurse maid, for even the smallest forms of life in rich society was given it's own comforts, someone to fulfill every desire with out having to work at all.

One of these nurse maids was named Anabelle, a young woman of sixteen who had lived and worked at the Artois estate her entire life, starting as scullery maid and moving through the ranks, being especially good with the young girls, the Baroness had decided she was a good choice.

That day, Anabelle was told to prepare her quarters and finish the nursery, for the doctor had been and gone and was saying that at any moment, the Baroness was liable to give birth.

After having completed this duty she was told to rest but stay wary, for she would be needed the moment the babies had arrived. She carried on this way and fell asleep fairly quickly, because it wasn't often that a maid was given permission to sleep the day away.

Almost as soon as she fell asleep she began the strangest dream, in it she heard the most gloriously strong music filtered into her head, an organ of such impeccable beauty, she felt like the most regal soul ever brought to life on earth, and suddenly of such crashing anger, she screamed and began to tremble, horribly afraid and desperately hoping that whomever was playing the organ would simply leave her alone.

Again, such a sudden switch to music of such intense sadness her soul was lifted to the heavens with sorrow and she began to sob.

A voice lifted and it seemed that as the voice became louder, the music lessened and lowered until it ended, but the notes and melodies echoed in Anabelle's head and the music wedged it's way into her heart, making her willing to do absolutely anything for it.

"The child is not a demon, but an angel" The voice, which held no particular tone nor audible sound bounced around in the caverns of her mind.

"An angel literally of god, who unknowingly accepted a terrible curse, and now must live to be cursed, to be hated and shunned, but an angel who is baring the gift of heaven's music, charged with the task of bringing God's music to earth" it continued on.

"You now know, so when you see his face you must not fear but take heart, for it is the face of an angel, a blessing in disguise, foster his life and bring his musical skills to the fore, for as long as he is given his gift of music his life will continue" the voice continued, filling her with the most immense feelings of joy and contentment, strength and ability.

"If his music is taken away from him he will die, forthwith and about a doubt" the voice said strongly, causing her to shiver and tremble ever so slightly.

"I don't understand" she cried, tears drying on her cheeks from the music.

"You must take care of him." The voice echoed, and suddenly Anabelle was awakened by the calling of her mistresses voice, screaming in pain and she knew it was time, she strengthened herself and raised her chin, marching towards the room she met with the other maid, she leaned over and discreetly whispered that if there was born a boy, she would prefer the charge of it, which the other maid was only too happy to do.


	2. Born with a curse

Chapter 2 Born with a curse

Chapter 2 Born with a curse

The Babies came so fast that no on had a chance to stop and examine them when they were born, the first one came out followed by the second one, no one took time to stop and look at the babies so long as they started screaming.

As soon as the little girl was born the midwife set up to screaming as she stopped to examine the little baby boy.

The screams were of such horror that conversation went up that the woman must have seen a ghost or something equally as horrible. She threw the baby into Anabelle's arms, threw her apron over her head and ran out of the room screaming bloody murder, dragging little Adrian, the youngest boy with her.

The other maid was looking after the little girl nervously and looked over at Anabelle who blocked out the babies face as she washed him and wrapped him carefully in a blanket.

Terrified the Baroness shook in her bed. "Come here and show me my children" she begged tears pouring down her face and shaking from head to toe, her own personal maid who was also curious about the boy was cleaning her up and helping her to get dressed.

At this point the Baron came in confused and wondrous as he saw the two little babies, not yet seeing their faces.

Anabelle brought the little baby boy over at the same time as the other maid Marie brought the baby girl, she laid the girl down first and The Baroness grinned showing her baby girl to the Baron who smiled warmly but a little distractedly, as he was more interested in boys.

Preparing herself for the storm that was sure to follow Anabelle turned the boy around and laid him in the mother's lap, and pulled the blanket out of his face.

Adelaide, the Baroness screamed herself, sobbing. "What sin against God have I committed?" she demanded as she looked up at her husband.

"Good god" he gasped himself and crossed himself, clenching his eyes closed at the horrible sight.

"This is not your sin my love but that Druid whore" he growled.

" I will take it to the river and drown it." He said sharply.

Anabelle screamed and shook her head. "No!" She cried and then bit her lip in shock, not wanting to be rebuked.

"I mean…if you want me to, I would not mind looking at his face every day, I would not mind taking care of him" she stuttered.

The Baroness made the final decision however as she held up her shaking hand and through her gasps and sobs managed. "no, we cannot drown it, someone might find out, and if anyone finds out they will wonder why, and if they ever figure out why, they will burn me as a witch and imprison you and our other dearlings for life…or even worse" she sobbed.

"No we'll hide him, and no one will ever know I had a third child. No one will ever know regardless of the cost" she said firmly, looking at the figures in the room, they all stood quietly, all knowing what it meant.

In spite of their hatred and in lieu of learning that Anabelle would look at his face every day without malice and take care of him regardless of the way he looked, the parents of such a spurned child allowed his life to continue.

So long as the Baron didn't have to look at him he couldn't quite release the fact that the young being was indeed born to a Baron, therefore was of nobility, so he was appropriated a set of rooms.

Each was capable of locking twice or sometimes three times and Anabelle was forced to keep all the doors locked all the time, so that he could never escape because the little boy was not allowed contact with his family.

Erik lay forever in a bassinet in the farthest back corner of the first floor of the house, behind the locked doors, Anabelle constantly with him. At two years she got the idea to sew him a little mask, to allow him some comfort, though it was obvious to any observer that he was not at all self conscious of his cursed face.

She purchased soft kidskin, cut hemmed and trimmed the material into the proper shape, sewed ties on it, and presented it to him.

"Why I wear this Anabelle?" he asked lightly, apparently the gods had gifted him with unrivalled intelligence as well as inhuman music.

Up until this point in his life, he had never seen himself in the mirror, nor even regarded the difference between their two faces. It broke her heart to have to tell him this, but she knew she would have had to eventually.

Kneeling on the ground she took Erik's little hand and put it on his left cheek, then took his other hand and put it on the left side of her face. His little fingers spread out and began to stroke ever so slightly.

He looked at her shocked and confused, of course he had felt his own face before but he had always assumed that everyone's skin was rough and sore like his. "Why different?" he asked eyes bright and wide.

"You were born a little differently Erik" she began quietly, taking his hand in hers and kissing the back ever so gently, looking right into his unmasked face with love and adoration on her face.

The Baron and Baroness had never actually named the little boy, preferring their perfect little children to take on variations of their names, so Anabelle had named him, after a fierce warrior, because she knew that he had a vicious fight ahead of him to become anything in the world.

He continued looking at her confused and she sighed and closed her eyes a moment before standing up and leading him towards her own private room. She unlocked the door and led him to her dressing cabinet.

After undoing all the locks on the front of the cabinet she swung the door open and squared Erik in front of the mirror.

He was looking up at her for guidance, but she tilted his chin so he was looking straight at himself in the mirror and then stepped out of the way, bracing herself for another storm.

At first all she heard was silence, then a questioning whimper, he had heard the same children's stories and seen the same engravings as every other child at the time and found the images just as frightening as anyone else.

"Monster?" Came the horrified little reply, as tears poured down his cheeks, dripping unchecked down his front.

"No Erik, that's you" she replied quietly, gently doing her best not to upset the little boy further, she came into the mirror above him and then knelt beside him so he could see her face as well, side by side with his own and Erik let out another whimper.

"Why different?" The insistent little boy echoed his earlier question.

"When you were growing up, getting ready to be born, God decided that he had to give your face to another little boy." She began to explain, having spent the moment since he was born deciding what exactly she would tell this miracle child when he finally asked.

"But God is a very generous and giving being, and he would not take something away without replacing it with something else." She continue, carefully watching his face, he was obviously confused but more interested then anything else.

"What he give me Anabelle?" The little boy continued.

"Well…" she took a deep breath and looked down at her slender little hands, wondering what in heaven's name she could tell him.

"He gave you the gift of music" she replied, deciding that to try and sugar coat it, or tell him anecdotes would only confuse him further.

"Music? What's music?" once more, the chirruping little voice asked, wonder in his eyes.

"Well, you know when I sing to you….that's music, and sometimes when I play you my records, that's music" Deciding to go out on a limb to try and get Erik to understand from his own mind.

"Music is the whispers and sounds you hear in your head" she said and knelt next to him, taking him in her arms she whispered in his ear.

"All those sounds you cannot explain, that is music, and that is God whispering into your mind" she continued in an ethereal tone.

"That's music?" He asked and closed his eyes, body beginning to sway as he heard the …music…flowing through his head, it made his body warm and his cheeks flush, it made his eyes lit up with tears.

"I like music" he whispered, still swaying as he heard the notes continually in his head.

"I know you do, and that is God's gift, in replacement for making your face different" she concluded, letting out a soft breath of relief, it had been easier to explain then she had thought.

She didn't know then that explaining his curse would be a lot more difficult in the future then she could ever possibly manage.


	3. Stage of Growth

Chapter 3-Stage of growth

Chapter 3-Stage of growth

A/N Hello everyone! Just wanted to make a reminder, I don't own Erik or any of the aspects of him found in the story from the various sources mentioned in the first chapter, there's also subtle references to sets in "Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott, so there's another one. Alright, enjoy!

With the small amount of funds she had managed to accumulate Anabelle managed to buy Erik a dilapidated piano and so almost immediately his musical training was undertaken.

The first time she sat him up on the bench and sat next to him, now at 5 years old he reached over and plucked at the keys, discerning a tune from his head almost immediately as he continued to push and pluck, finding sounds and pitches, notes that had existed only in his head.

He could stay there for hours on end, and by stealing elementary music books from Adrian's workshops, the youngest son of the Baron and Baroness shot past his older brother, to the point where Erik had to wait weeks and often times over a month for his new music book, because Adrian was lazy and shamefully shirked his studies for hunting or courting.

Erik on the other hand grew in the opposite direction, instead of growing up towards being a strong, stiff well bred man of the nobility, Erik was a wily scholar, a learned man and a masterful musician, Anabelle in her limited knowledge often compared him to Mozart, believing his talents had surpassed those of the masters.

Music was a natural talent, but could often not fill his lonliness, because at ten he had experienced something so dreadful that it threw him into a spin of horror that created in him, self-consciousness, bitterness and hurt that would eventually create madness out of his cursed face.

Waiting for Anabelle to bring him his dinner he had frantically been pacing the room and out of hungry desire for his food and childish impatience he tried the first door that separated him from the rest of the world.

The door creaked open and he smiled in shock, all the doors were constantly locked when Anabelle was not with him. The door led to his schoolroom, a sparsely but richly decorated with bookshelves, tables, and comfortable chairs for Anabelle and Erik to study or relax in.

Tempted now and heartened for his success for in his entire life the doors were never unlocked. He went to the following door and tried the knob, it turned easily and the door open again.

Walking through he found himself in their dining room, another place he was only allowed to go under the strictest of supervision, his favourite room by far because if he was particularly quiet in it, he could hear movement and distant voices from outside, being in this room without supervision excited his young mind even further because now he could explore around the room and touch anything he wanted, even the liquor cabinet.

A great many children in his circumstances would have run amuck, breaking things, stealing the wine, and wreaking havoc in general. Erik's sharp mind however propelled him onward and with a minimal touch of two fingers to his mask, he surged forward to try the knob of the final door and his last barricade.

The ten year old knew absolutely nothing, of anything that lay beyond this door, his mind had attempted to imagine what it must have been like, extrapolating through books and listening to the faint voices talking to them, and through Anabelle's stories, his mind though couldn't quite conceive of what he was seeing now.

Even at ten, the little boy was mildly afraid of what lay beyond, he had not ever been explained to why he had been cloistered like this, and since Anabelle never reacted to his face, that never crossed his mind. He couldn't imagine anyone living any other way then the way he lived, and he wondered often too if there was even really anything beyond this door.

He pushed it open and as soon as the heavy wood creaked aside he was lit by a bright golden world bustling with activity and alive with people and things going on, that he had only read about and things he had no idea of what they were.

Now, an interesting fact to note, is that beyond the two nurse maids and the midwife who had been present at the birth and both of which were paid far more then any maids or midwives ever had been in the past, no one knew of Erik's existence.

The servants only suspected that Anabelle had a secret child by the Baron and he felt sorry for her and so forced her to take care of it in secret, but that was rather common in households like these, so there was no real scandal in that.

The appearance of a little person in the elegant front hall from apparently no where, dressed not as a street waif but as a well endowed aristocrat, with all the silks and all the velvets that went along with such a title, along with the addition of a strange mask on his face, astounded, confounded and frightened the staff that was working in the atrium.

Erik met their stares with his own, little head tilted to the side and then he smiled, half of it disappearing under his mask. "Good evening" He said, extending his hand to one houseman who shook it slowly, taken by the little boys charms, he didn't want to frighten him.

Erik smiled at him and bowed to the ladies politely, oblivious to his supposed position indicated by his dress. He continued on down the hall, childish curiosity driving him forward.

He found a set of stairs, and never seeing stairs before but having read about them mounted them easily, the top amused him because he could find that he could look down at people through the banister, and they looked like they did in his drawings, far away and small.

Once he turned from the sight he was greeted with a long hallway, lined with rooms, most of the doors closed, but one half way down the length of the hall stood open for him.

Curiosity flooded his soul and it thrilled through his blood, causing the little hairs on his arm to stand on end. Erik carried on and peeked through the door, fingers gripped on the door jamb he looked in and squinted, his eyes were used to the darkness, and gloom of no windows and candles, but now, Julia's curtains were thrown wide open and sunlight flooded the room.

As his eyes came into focus he saw a little girl, flowing hair trickling down over her shoulders as she sat at her dressing table, three women in attendance preparing clothes, shoes, and other accessories for the day.

Erik had never seen a woman other then Anabelle, and to see one about his own age astounded him, she was pretty true enough but, he found it mildly excessive to have three people helping you dress and do your hair-he did it all by himself and considered himself to look very respectable every day.

At first no one perceived his presence, but as he stepped fully into the room, his eyes sweeping over the contents and giving looks to all the women inside, everyone saw him almost simultaneously.

Julia and two of her maids had no idea whatsoever about who this little bow was and were immediately shocked and horrified at a mans presence in the room, the one maid went to scold him sharply, and then realized that he wore a mask and stopped, confused as the third maid stepped forward, a look of shock on her face.

For this maid, was the very maid who had been in the room the night the twins had been born, and had seen Erik's little face for herself. Now, as he stood before her as a boy of ten, she knew instantaneously who he was, though not at all where he had come from. "My God" she whispered, for most of her life she had been bent on believing that the little boy truly had been drowned in the river, despite Anabelle's constant absence.

Golden eyes washed over her form and the look on her face, and knew politesse would demand that he speak and explain his presence for invading a ladies chambers, but this look and the reactions of the other people in the room held his tongue frozen in his mouth.

"Get out demon child!" she hissed and seized him out of nowhere by his hair, dragging him from the room.

"Master! Mistress!" she called, knowing that the Baron and Baroness were only just down the hall taking tea in the drawing room with Adrian.

The woman who had him by the hair set up such a fuss and startled him so much that he forgot his lessons in manners. "Let go of me vile creature, and stop stirring up such noise, the dead have no need of waking!" He said, imitating one of Anabelle's sayings when he took to shrieking.

More shocked then ever before, she picked the little boy up off the ground and carried him like a load of laundry under her arm.

She pushed her way into the drawing room and interrupted her mistress' rebuke by putting Erik down and turning him around to face them.

The Baron let out a curse and then turned to his wife who had dropped her tea cup and turned a pale green and grey colour. "Oh My" she whispered and began to shake all over, lips quivering in terror.

Adrian looked on completely confused, he had been in the room the day his brother and sister had been born but he had been told that his brother had died, and had no ideas to believe any differently.

He jumped to his feet when he saw his mother begin to shake, she had a poor heart his father said, and this little waif and no right to send her into such a state, Moving to control the little trouble maker the only way he'd ever been taught, Adrian raised his hand and drew it back.

Just as he moved to release it, the door banged open and Anabelle rushed in, flushed and horrified. "Erik! NO Adrian, don't!" she pled, but it was too late.

The bake of the older boys hand connected smartly with Erik's face, knocking the mask completely off his face, the family crest that Adrian wore in the form of a ring on his finger, cut into the younger boys cheek sharply and blood began to flow freely from his already mutilated cheek.

Two things happened almost at the same time, the Baroness stood up and slapped Anabelle, for either letting Erik out or her impertinence towards Adrian, not even the Baroness herself knew which wone.

Erik felt his first sting of real pain and looked up at Adrian, tears mixing with the blood and mucus on his face, not knowing what he had done to deserve that pain, this kind of treatment. Adrian recoiled at the boys face, screaming in terror about the death mask he fled from the room.

"You!" the Baron roared at the maid.

"Had better explain yourself" He finished in a growl, moving to grab her by the hair.

Erik having inherited the same quick fits of temper when threatened, surged up and grabbed the Baron's wrist, not very strong, Erik and ten made up for it with cunning.

He bit the abusive hand as hard as his little jaw could manage and glared at the Baron. "Don't you touch her" he snapped sharply.

The bloody death's head spewed up at him, but Anabelle grabbed Erik and pushed her behind him, quickly handing him his mask she shoved him towards the door, quickly saying: "Don't worry about me- remember the concept of hierarchy, now go straight to your room and do not leave it until I come back" she ordered, and the little boy looked up at her with desolate eyes, but turned and trudged back to his rooms.

At first his only means of soothing his ruffled thoughts and rattled nerves was to pace, but as time crept endlessly on and hunger started to gnaw at him he played his piano, he played well into the night but not even his music could distract his thoughts and when he found himself playing the same four notes repetitively, he chose to attempt sleep.

Finally he managed to drift off and give in, he only vaguely heard a short while later, Anabelle come in. She went straight to her rooms and he heard her draw a bath, and though it may have been his dreamlike state he thought he heard her crying.

The next morning she roused him early with a stark breakfast, and with a sharp look in her much changed eyes she stared at him hard as he ate.

As he ate, he stared back, examining her face, her eyes were both bruised, one almost to the point of being swollen shut, her lip was split and her breath came in sharply, if she moved too fast.

"Anabelle, what happened?" He asked, having almost completely forgotten his own pain.

"You disobeyed me" she replied sharply, and he recoiled in guilt and fear.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to know, I wanted to see" he began tearfully.

"You see what happens?" She snapped back, more angry now.

"You get us both into trouble" she snapped at him, jaw twitching slightly.

"But why?" Erik demanded, and he lost his temper, tears stopped flowing as she tried to cut him off, to give him a response to only dodge his question, he felt that somehow it was beyond that now.

"Why am I shut up back here like a captive, kept away from everyone and everything. Why is my face like this, and don't tell me anything about God, whoa re those people and why am I so frightening that they don't even know my name?" he ranted.

"Eat your breakfast" she said, losing her own anger and the total sadness of the little boys life.

Erik threw the tray in the direction of the fire, regardless of the contents. "No. Tell me! Anabelle, mama, please" He begged, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

She was shocked to hear him actually call her his mother, and too sad and despondent, sore and utterly miserable, she realized that look, saw the intelligence and knew that she couldn't lie to him or pretend anymore, he was ready for the truth. "I am not your mother Erik, that woman yesterday was your mother, that man was your father, that boy your brother and the girl your sister." She said in a defeated tone.

He just stared, eyes curiously blank. "What?" he asked, in a voice no more then a whisper.

"I'm sorry Erik, I truly am…" she trailed off, there was nothing else to say.

"My family" he muttered and collapsed in his chair.

Many of his books spoke of family as the most wonderful thing to have and Erik had often dreamt of having one, whenever he brought it up with Anabelle, she always ignored it or distracted him until he forgot, now he knew why.

He saw his mothers horror flash through his mind, his fathers hatred, he watched his sister recoil in fear and disgust, he relived the moment of his brothers hand hitting his face and then recoiling and fleeing the room in terror upon seeing his face.

"I am a monster" He whispered, one tear snaking down his mottled and swollen cheek.

"No Erik, don't think that" Anabelle said, face softening as she reached over to try and comfort him.

He stepped away, face sharply blank, "I am though, not even my blood family can stand the sight of me, I must be something horrible." He said, golden eyes glazed and far off, somewhere in the pits of the insanity that had always swirled around at the edges of his consciousness.

He got up oblivious to anything now, went into his room at a slow, terrifying shuffling pace, closed the door to her sad face, and the lock clicked into place, the sharp sound resounding in the silent room.

A/N alright, there's some references to Self injury and rape in the next chapter, hence the M rating…so if that bothers you, just a quick warning.


	4. Hellish physicality

Chapter 4- Hellish physicality

At sixteen, Erik still bore the scars on his arms from that night, his first brush with horror, and though the cuts on his arms still existed each and every day, the scars from that night seemed to be forever the worst.

Dressed and prepared for the day Erik emerged from his room and smiled at Anabelle "Good morning" he greeted, his voice cheery and warm.

Looking up from her sewing she smiled at her little….or not so little boy. "Good morning" she returned, looking him up and down and frowning sharply as she noted details about his clothing.

She noted his black pants-a little to high from his shoes, the cuffs of his jacket did not fall to where they should have been, revealing at least half an inch of wrist, but the torso of his shirt underneath hung off his frame. The waist of his pants was bound up quite tidily and almost unnoticeably with the tie to a set of heavy drapes, and this tie, wrapped around his hips at least twice.

In many ways Anabelle was very glad Erik did not have to suffer the cruelties of men and especially of other boys-and the reasons had nothing to do with his face.

Erik was not muscled and filled in like other boys, though he was terribly strong, undertaking some sort of exercise twice a day.

He was thin and appeared half starved, though Anabelle herself knew that he packed food down as much as his twenty year old brother, and that his choice of food was not picky like a bird, but that of any healthy sixteen year old boy.

"Come, before breakfast, I will take your measurements, you are growing to fast to keep up with" she said with a smile, standing up and picking up her measuring tape.

Much favouring practicality, Anabelle opted to simply tack on extra fabric onto his suit jackets and his pants, his cloak, sometimes even his shirts. Erik didn't mind the additions this way, and did not understand the concept of buying new ones when your old ones became too small, so doing it this way, it was cheaper, and Anabelle could extend them within minutes.

He smiled at her and shuffled out of his slippers, extending his long arms with a wink of one golden eye. "Perhaps I should tie bricks to my neck and see if that does me any good" He goaded her.

She smacked his chest gently. "The only good you'd do yourself is to cut off your air supply and silence your nasty tongue" she teased back as she scribbled them down and took his jacket off, laying it by her chair for reparation after breakfast.

She led him to the dining room, where an elaborate breakfast was laid out for both of them.

Erik had now perfected the art of courtesy, of course, not understanding the concept that technically, she was a 'lower being' then he was, he held out her chair for her and saw her seated before he seated himself.

Once they were seated and prayers were finished, he waited until she enjoyed her first bite until he took his own.

After breakfast Anabelle sat in her chair and went about repairing his clothes, tacking on several inches of black fabric onto his jacket with some golden embroidery so that it didn't look thrown together, and then set to repairing his pants.

Meanwhile, Erik set to doing his lessons. He had already far surpassed Anabelles capacity to read so she bought, stole and borrowed him books from very sources and hoped that they were enough for his education.

Once he was finished his French reading, he pursued other languages, Italian, German and English were his primary languages-the operatic languages, Anabelle knew enough of this to slip them into his learning, so that when he began to hear beyond his symphony and his oratorio's, he could sufficiently and easily compose operas.

After he was finished with languages, came mathematics, Erik himself had build this course, primarily for himself, so that instead of simply sums or bankers arithmetic, it involved a great deal of chemistry, geometry and architecture.

Finally after a basic and very light lunch, he turned his entire afternoon over to his musical studies, playing his piano to warm his fingers, he sang opera to warm his voice and then took to continuing the composition of his symphony.

Every single night since he had turned eleven and found his musical voice, he had added singing to his repertoire and in five years had developed such a wonderful voice that Anabelle knew that her dream had been the truth, and that her decisions had not been wrong or misled.

A little later in the afternoon, Erik had been singing something from Faust, working on his baritone register when there came a single sharp bang on the forbidden door on the far side of the dining room.

This had happened several times already and Anabelle peeked in to see that Erik was still rapped up in attempting to reach the lower most note, singing the scale and arpeggio's repeatedly to try and get there.

Anabelle opened the door and blinked in surprise as the Baron stood on the other side. "Good afternoon sir" she said and curtsied, head down.

"Where is the boy?" he demanded stiffly, hands behind his back.

"Doing his lessons right now sir" she replied submissively.

He listened for a moment and wrinkled his nose. "You let him sing for his lessons?" he

asked, disgusted, his wife insisted that Adrian take music lessons but at thirteen the Baron and put a firm end to that wishy washy nonsense.

"Why yes sir, it is good for his fingers and his voice" she whispered in reply.

"Well now I have a chance for him to actually be a man, bring me to the boy." He ordered.

Anabelle pressed her lips together and chewed on the bottom one. "Sir…I…" she began.

"Now!" The Baron roared angrily.

With a sigh and showing a very confused and worried face as she walked in, she

led the Baron into the room.

"Erik…you have a visitor" she said, biting her lip, freaked out because she didn't have any idea what the Baron could possibly have wanted with his son.

The teenager took a moment to emerge from the piano nook his clothes repaired he looked regal and imperious, exceedingly tall at six foot four, his hair curled at the back of his neck and over his mask, he blinked down at the Baron confused. "Good evening" he said slowly, bowing ever so slightly as Anabelle had instructed him to do should he ever be face to face with the horrible man.

"Yes" the Baron said almost surprised it could talk.

"You are to come upstairs to have tea with your sister" he said sharply.

Brows furrowed and golden eyes glinted with confusion. "My sister? Why?" he asked confused beyond belief.

Anabelle surged forward and put herself into the situation. "My lord, with all respect I do not think that is a very good idea." She said, chewing on her inner cheek.

The Baron looked at her "I don't find myself caring what you think" he said and shoved her out of the way, turning around back to look at Erik.

"Now. Please." The Baron said, forcing a tone of politeness into his voice.

"No Thank you," Erik replied with a bow, he much preferred music to conversation, and solitude to company.

"Excuse me?" The Baron replied, shocked, he had never once heard that word in his life…and definitely never from anyone younger then him.

"Thank you for your kind offer, but I have things to attend to here and I am in the midst of my lessons in addition" he said and turned to walk back towards his piano, slipping through the small doorway he was almost out of sight when the Baron lunged and grabbed his arm.

Red in the face the older man yanked him tightly out of the nook and away from his much beloved instrument.

At this point Anabelle felt desperately like she wanted to interfere, and was desperately trying to gather Erik's attention to send him some kind of signal of what to do. She had taught him propriety, politesse, and decency-all in equality alike however. While he understood the concept of lord and servant, master and slave, he was taught to accept everyone regardless of their station, class, or creed. Anabelle had taught the young man that one could always refuse to do things that made one uncomfortable so long as it was done with decorum and in a dignified manner. Which meant that now, while the Baron yanked him around, the poor man had no idea what to do.

"I said, come with me and I meant it" the baron hissed, angrily in the young mans face, angry with him for defying him.

Erik was shocked –he- has heard the word 'no' before and had understood it but now this man, because he was a Baron, insisted that Erik go with him, interrupting the entire course of his day and leaving what he was doing, simply because he was a Baron.

The look on the young mans dace was almost enough to make Anabelle start laughing outright, though she firmly held her tongue and looked down to avoid it.

"Why?" Erik asked, brows furrowed and fingers interlaced behind his back as he weaved back and forth.

This enflamed the Baron further and he started to drag Erik out of the room towards the outer door.

"Why?" Erik demanded in an angry and explosive tone, he didn't mind being asked but, being physically dragged across the room was a whole new level of insistence.

"Because I said so" the Baron ranted back, and though Erik dug his heels in full resistance, the Baron used sheer weight against him.

"Erik" Anabelle said, appearing quickly in the door behind them.

"Mind your manners" she said sharply, giving him a look that quite clearly ordered him to his place, but to by God be careful while he was doing it.

Acquiescing Erik pulled himself up straight and straightened his clothing. "Forgive my resistance-you simply startled me with your timing and unexpected request"

He said and bowed gently along with his eloquent apology.

This pleased the Baron very much and he nodded his head. "Yes, yes now come along and don't dawdle boy" he said and led him up the stairs, leaving behind a very worried Annabelle.

Six years seemed like an eternity to a young person but was nothing to a person's memory-certainly not to Erik's memory, for he could practically map out everything he had ever seen in his life. Particularly when it came to the drawing room, where he had learned so sharply his first taste of hatred.

So when the Baron began to lead him towards a room that seemed to be a little too far down the hall and on the wrong side of the house to be the drawing room, Erik began to become exceedingly confused, but he rationalized to himself that perhaps he was simply wrong.

However when they rounded the corner and saw the room, the memory vision in his head bounced to him freely, vividly, and sharply-a frightened little girl now was taller and fuller, with a woman's shapely body. Her face was much softer and more gently complexioned then Anabelle's.

The Baron led Erik in and locked the door firmly behind them, golden eyes scanned the room, for signs of tea-there was none.

"I thought you had invited me to tea…" Erik said, letting his sentence trail out as he continued to search for signs of tea.

"Not the liquid kind" he said snickering with a very lewd expression on his face, leading his wife out of a side door and locking it behind them.

Erik turned to the other woman, presuming she was his sister and he bowed at the waist. "Good afternoon sister" he said and opened his mouth to explain firmly, but she stepped forward and put a finger to his lips.

"I don't understand" he said, eyebrow's pulling together nervously.

She giggled and took his large hands in her small ones, laying them gently on her waist.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that" she purred and then led him towards her bed with her body.

Blinking rapidly a terrible thought occurred to Erik, she couldn't possibly be luring him –into- bed with her, and then the required action for steeping tea entered his head and the motions involved therein flooded his mind, and a furious blush took his cheeks, surely such a proper lady would not profane to such scurrilous actions…particularly to her brother.

As his mind turned the ideas over, she shoved him on the bed and all of his thoughts were confirmed as she gently pushed his legs apart, fingers creeping upward, face grinning with sordid delight as he looked back at her in horror.

Anabelle meanwhile waited, beyond terrified for Erik to come home, her mind could not fathom what the Baron had wanted with Erik, and tea with his sister was a piss poor excuse for a reason.

At some point late in the evening she had sat down to do her needlework and must have dozed off because at some point later, she heard the door open, and then close and the slow shuffling footsteps she had learned to fear echo through approaching the den.

She leapt to her feet and shuddered visibly in horror when she saw the look on his face, and written in his eyes.

His vest, waist coat, as well as his long jacket were all draped over his arm and his lips were pink and swollen.

His shirt was almost completely undone and hung open revealing his chest, and he had several pink and purple hickey's decorating his neck and chest, scratch marks adorned the pale flesh of his chest, labelling him as belonging to someone, something one only saw in brothels, or on the young slaves of particularly cruel masters…or in this case mistresses.

These marks and his state of dress and the look in his eyes told her exactly what he had been used for upstairs. "Erik" she began, but the glow in his golden eyes told her not to ask at that very moment.

He walked towards his bedroom but stopped on his way there and picked up the letter opener on the big oak desk that stood by the door.

After retrieving this instrument he continued into his room at the pace that Anabelle hated, that pace meant his body was dead and all his energy was in his mind, reliving the pain that he had encountered.

As he slammed the door and the lock clicked into place, Anabelle felt like anymore torment would steal away her Erik forever, and she desperately hoped that somehow, somewhere, something would change, so that maybe Erik wouldn't have to look like that ever again.


	5. A great escape

Chapter five- A great escape

A/N As I said somewhere in the beginning there's a massive change into a kind of alternate universe type of Phantom of the Opera stuff coming up, and this is where it starts, so if you're expecting him to go running away to gypsies and then to the opera house where he falls madly in love with Christine…then things are going to be extremely different, so just a little warning. Also…gruesome bloodiness and some nasty language coming up…part of the M rating…

Enjoy!

When a man turns eighteen he is supposed to be a time of celebration, a time when a boy becomes a man, and is taught the ways of the world, when life becomes special and you're allowed to do all the things that you want to do.

Presents are given, wine is drunk, and often times a man is given his first real conquest, and it was all these things that struck in Erik's head when he woke up the morning of his own eighteenth birthday.

Trying to sooth himself and slow himself down he carefully went through his usual aerobic routine and then washed his face and wet his hair, dressed to his usual perfection, he had stopped growing at an astounding six foot eight and hadn't showed signs of continuing so he had been given a new coat last year.

Unable to wait any longer he left the room and burst into the living room with a resounding, cheery "Good morning!" a smile growing on his lips as he saw Anabelle sitting in her chair, head to her chest dozing lightly.

He stepped forward fingers reaching out to gently touch her shoulder, as he did he saw her face was a strange colour and her body was stiff and straight, strangely unmoving as she sat in the chair.

The chair itself was supposed to be yellow and cream but something struck him odd about it, though much of her dress and sewing was in the way so that shadows covered most of it anyways.

"Anabelle?" he asked gently, a deep sense of terror in the air surrounding her.

Taking several more gentle steps forward he reached out one shaking hand to touch her face, one slender finger stroking down her cheek in an attempt to gain her attention.

"Anabelle?" He questioned one more time as his bony fingers stroked again and he slapped her cheek ever so gently in an attempt to wake her up.

Her head snapped back so quickly that for a moment it seemed she was actually alive and Aaron began to smile and speak, but his voice died out into a meaningless, horrified squeak.

A gaping slash in her slender throat had caused the movement and her head was held on by the barest string of skin.

"Anabelle!" he squaked out and then fell to his knees next to her, catching himself on the chair before he hit his head on anything.

He began to shake from head to toe as he brought his hand to his face in shock, his fingers trembled and his lips twitched at random. He twisted his hand around and around in front of his face, eyes riveted on his long, white fingers and realized in a jolt what the chair was coloured with.

The sticky half congealed blood had soaked into the cushion, but it had run so thickly that it was pooled slightly on the floor and was still wet despite the fact that it must have been there for quite some time.

"Anabelle" he repeated in an increasingly hysterical tone of voice, his eyes rolled upwards and he let out a repressed squeak as he saw that there was blood splashed on the wall and across the floor and fire place.

This time it was a real scream that ripped through his chest and from the back of his throat, the animalistic howl that echoed through time and space, it tore asunder the floor boards of the house and terrified most of the maids on the same floor.

"Anabelle!" He screamed at the top of his lungs and managed to stand up, tottering away from her cold stiff body, wet slicked fingers drug across his mask and face and then he surged forward again, a sob wracking his body.

Erik wrapped her in a hug and held her close to his chest, rocking her back and forth kissing her forehead and her cheeks. He whispered to her and begged her to put herself back together, to get up and stop joking with him.

All of it was in vain and he finally had to accept the fact that the life force had actually left her beautiful and strong body. "Oh Anabelle" he managed, eyes glowing with a sort of grief induced madness.

Stemming the tide of tears he laid her body gently on the floor and then went into Anabelle's room, he took her perfume, the blanket from her bed and a flower from her vase on her dresser, then walked calmly back out.

He tucked the flower into her hair and then wrapped her up in the blanket and tucked her in very tightly.

Silently he went into his own room and retrieved his cloak and books, his written music and bundled it all into a makeshift bag that he created from his own blanket.

He slung the bag on his back and tied it make shift in place and then swung his cloak over top, he put his gloves on with a flourish and then gently picked up his mothers body from the floor, gently pulling the blanket over her head he picked up the keys from beside her chair by the fire.

Taking to the hall Erik didn't bother with the keys and simply kicked the doors in, he appeared into the hall way and stormed towards the stairs regardless of the state of his being and the stares he was getting from the other staff.

"Baron!?" he bellowed out as he stormed through the hallways, making up the stairs two at a time.

"Baron" he screamed as he rounded the corner, he recoiled physically upon seeing Julia and she grinned at him, remembering their last meeting only three days ago.

He shoved past her with the very best of ability and shoved past Adrian in the hallway, he kept on walking intent on the Baron but stopped short upon having registered the appearance of Adrian in his mind a little late.

His older brother had a spot of blood just below his ear on his jaw, mostly hidden by his hair, he also had a scratch on his neck.

His hands too had been recently though badly washed, they had bits of blood under his finger nails, and more scratches on the back of his hands.

"You!" he roared and surged at his brother just as the Baron and Baroness came charging out of the Baronesses private bedroom.

Adrian gulped thickly and shook his head, looking at the bundle in Erik's arms, he turned pale and backed away several steps.

Gently lying the body down on the couch he turned around a sadistic expression on his face, made more menacing and terrifying as the blood on his mask shone red in the bright golden light.

He approached him at a quick, meaningful pace, Adrian tried to dodge and throw a blow at the same time, but Erik anticipated it and pivoted with him landing just in range to slam an open hand, hard, against his shoulder, Erik grinned and laughed sadistically as he heard a satisfying crunch and an according scream for his efforts.

"Don't just stand there! Get him!" The Baron roared to both his and Adrian's foot men, but both men were too terrified of the mad, blood streaked man to get involved.

"You did it" Erik said towering over the young Baron, jaw clenched so tight his face turned white.

"Did what?" Adrian stammered trying to scrabble away.

"You killed her" he hissed, one single finger pointing towards the body laying on the couch. He pushed towards him, eyes narrowing into slits, blood streaked mask coming ever closer as he loomed over him.

"Who?" Adrian stammered, teeth chattering as his whole frame shook from head to toe as tears poured down his face as he fell over backwards, his crushed arm held tightly to his chest.

Erik glowered and moved in closer "my. Mother" He snarled, baring his teeth as he ripped the sheet off of her blood spattered face.

Adrian looked over at the Baroness for he had been taught only one thing with no chance of questioning, that Erik was his brother and never to listen to idle gossip but to try and punish the devil out of his brother at every chance delivered. "I didn't! She's right there!" He said and pointed with his good arm.

"That. Is not. My mother" He screamed and leather squeaked against leather, an ominous sound in a room filled with only Adrian's shuffling and panicked breathing.

"Oh…that slut bitch nurse of yours? Had to teach her, her place-it got out of hand, I was drunk" his stammering got progressively louder and explosive as Erik came closer, and closer until fingers latched around his throat.

For a moment he was stunned because he couldn't believe that no one else in the room seemed shocked that this was happening, that their precious boy had killed a defenceless woman, the Baron even seemed proud of him, and had a smug smirk on his face.

The Baroness's only reaction was to cover the woman's face with the blanket and turn back towards her son and husband. Erik snapped as he lost sight once again of his beloved mother.

Grabbing the twenty-two year old Erik picked him almost clear up off the ground by his throat. "That. Slut. Bitch. Nurse" he spit out each word in Adrian's face, and then dragged him across the room and shoved his face into her face, using his other hand to draw the blanket off again.

"Was my mother" he finished, squeezing his throat tightly as he turned him around, Adrian's blood pumped hard through his veins, and the look on the Baroness's face turned pale and she put her fist in her mouth and clung to her husband's arm as she saw the look on Erik's face.

Erik was calm as he watched his older brother's face turned purple and as he clawed at his arm desperate for air.

"Do something" The Baroness hissed at her husband.

"Don't let my boy die" she pled with him, eyes brimming with tears.

"Get him!" The Baron barked and the two men jumped forward towards the taller man, but one kick to the stomach and one went down, still holding his brother Erik pivoted and launched another kick at the other one landing it in his leg and sending him down with a vicious crunch.

"You will give me five thousand pounds" Erik ordered to the Baron as he felt Adrian go limp.

"Call it…death duties" he said with a sinister chuckle as Adrian began to convulse in his hands.

Adelaide screamed at the top of her lungs and clawed at her husband's suit jacket. "For God's sake do it" she screamed reaching out towards her son.

The Baron snatched at his purse and wrote a cheque faster then any human had ever been recorded doing.

Erik tucked the money into his vest pocket and dropped the boy at his feet, stepping on him as he went to the door Erik calmly picked up Anabelle's body and disappeared down the hall.

Erik only paused a moment before going out the open front door, venturing into a golden world of candles was far different then venturing into a world full of people, for one split second he was so full of fear that he didn't think he was actually going to go-but the moment passed.

He slipped out the door and blinked almost immediately struck with a headache prompted by the sunlight.

He took off into the woods prompted by images of being chased off by dogs and men after the Baron got over the fear of the situation.

Finding the quietest spot in the woods Erik buried his beloved Anabelle with flowers and a few select sheets of music, one of his old jackets she had repaired and her needlework.

"I love you" he whispered, his eyes brimming with tears as he packed the dirt back down, it was short and Erik felt as if he wanted to do so much more for his mother, she deserved so much more then what she was getting, but he didn't have the time-for even his small prayers were interrupted by the very fears that had driven him so quickly into the woods became reality.

He heard Dog's barking, and men shouting, the Baron's voice louder and angrier then any other voice, screaming injustice and to 'find the monster'.

Erik's mind shot off faster then his body as he tried to think of how to escape, as he ran the constant music in his head was quite suddenly accompanied by rushing water and facts clicked into Erik's mind like clogs in a lock.

He hid his bag under the bushes to the very best of his ability, threw his cloak into the window in hopes of throwing them off his train and then dove into the water and paddled hard to stay underneath.

Forcing his golden eyes open he saw a dog's nose right above his head, it disappeared, it disappeared quickly though Erik didn't know why, so he clapped a hand sharply over his mouth to keep all the bubbles inside.

Having such a large lung capacity as a direct result of his singing and his music, but it wasn't inhuman so his chest was burning with such fire, and his head was spinning, when he couldn't hold his breath he ventured up to the surface.

Erik did not encounter the Baron's men but a simple fisherman, without realizing it, Erik had lost his mask and so as he rose out of the water, no mask, with blood on his shirt and strangely thin and wretched.

Erik felt humiliation once again as the fisherman screamed and dropped his pole and backed up crossing himself before scrabbling to his feet and running so fast he forgot his old horse tied nearby to a tree.

Letting out a sigh the boy untied the horse and checked under the bushes to see if his bag was still under the bushes, and almost cried when he found it.

In it were his last memories of his beloved Anabelle and he couldn't bare to be parted from them.

He took a moment to once again compose himself and then walked over to the horse, he tied up his bag to the saddle and took a breath, mounted the horse to the best of his ability.

Timidly Erik began to push the horse onwards, he kept his unmasked face to the ground, and away he went, cold soaking wet, and more wretched then he'd ever been in his entire life.


End file.
